Debris
by Kavan
Summary: In the early spring of 1921 Matthew and Mary visit Downton to repay some old debts. Easter Rising universe.


**Debris**

Happy M&M AU Fest 2015. Kudos to Patsan for coming up with these events & keeping the M&M love alive. For this day I've revisited the Easter Rising Universe where Matthew is invalidated out of the war leading to M&M marrying midway through the war. The last few one off's I've written for this universe have all been set during the years M&M were raising their daughters. But this fic occurs in the spring of 1921. This will be I believe a four part fic, and I will hopefully releasing part two late next week and so on. Enjoy and please let me know what you think.

 **.~.~.~.~.**

 _They say Ellis is a professional man." Bates stated flatly. He was standing at the very left most corner of the cell. From the first visit he always selected a space in one corner or the other. At first he thought Bates was cracking up. Then he had realized that a man used to being caged up has to make his space where he can._

" _Yes," Matthew agreed glancing around him furtively. The cell was small, moisture oozed from the walls, and he had no doubt that the room was a play area for rats of all sizes and breeds. He swore if he strained hard enough he could hear the squeaking sliding sound of them surrounding him. He tugged his trouser leg a half a dozen times already fearing the tugging bite he'd become all too accustomed to in the trenches. Being in the cell was the closest thing Matthew could imagine to being back in a trench. The past few years living in a clean bright house, eating good food, sleeping in Mary's arms he'd almost let go of the despair, the daily struggle to survive, to not mind things like rat bites, to ignore water seeping down the trench. Being here though it all came back; the miserable state trench, the muted terror. The enduring versus ever really living, and he reached into his pocket and wiped his suddenly sopping forehead. Bates as he did at such times pointedly looked away staring off into the short distance to the bars. Matthew did not let his gaze follow Bates'. The bars, the cramped confines all played into his weaknesses. And without saying a word he would begin mentally reciting the mantra he required for each visit. This cell was not a trench, he reminded himself. And the cell had a lock but at the first call a man would come and let him out. It was not a trench, and he could get out. These were the mantras he rehearsed on the train journey up to the prison. The cell was only locked, he could get out. He had to remind himself of this every time he came to visit Bates. He had to periodically remind himself that he could always see the man that would let him out. This was what came of war, even in the peace he was only a shell of what he was and while it might improve he knew the old Matthew Crawley lay dead somewhere in France. He had physically survived in relatively solid shape, but the fragile threads that kept his mind together were forever straining._

 _Bates regained his attention,, "I'm not afraid of the pain." Matthew thought his tone entirely devoid of human feelings…. as if emotions and feelings had somehow been left behind._

 _It had been a discussion among them in the trenches how many people did a man kill before it stopped bothering him. Bates, Matthew decided, had passed the number. Still, he was a client. No longer merely the reliable if slightly odd valet. Nor was he merely Robert's former soldier…his William… No he was a client. A man accused and convicted._

" _Perhaps you shouldn't think of it," Matthew offered meekly. He did not add such a prescription had been doled out to him liberally for years, and yet only in the past twelve months had he wrenched his thoughts momentarily from the trenches._

" _How can I not?" Again Bates' tone retained a flatness. Cold blooded wife murderer the newspapers proclaimed… Several times Matthew had thought if he met Bates for the first time in this cell he'd be dead afraid for his life. Even without resources or reason for violence, the trait seemed to have escaped from deep inside of the man and seeped out of his every word and gesture._

" _I suppose you cannot," Matthew admitted reaching for his cigarette case. He found having a thing in his hand helped distract him. For months he'd taken to cigars or cigarettes, toyed briefly with a pipe. "Join me?" Bates demurred shaking his head. "Oh well," He said reaching to return it to his pocket._

" _Feel free to," Bates said evenly. "Very little could bother me now." It was the rare time when a smile touched his lips._

 _Matthew frowned saying, "I'd expect not. Do the inmates give you much trouble?"_

 _Bates smiled seemingly amused asking, "Would you trouble a man accused of murder?" Matthew did not respond to his bait, causing John to ask, "Is there a reason for your visit?"_

" _Anna…." Matthew noted explaining, "She would like to come."_

 _Bates shook his head muttering decidedly; "They'd turn her into a Thompson."_

" _I thought the same." Matthew agreed adding hesitantly. "But she is quite determined."_

 _Bates looked up truly smiling as if pleased by the news. "She would be." Almost at once though the levity drained form his face. He frowned admonishing; "I won't have it."_

 _In their times together during the trial Matthew had come to recognize John Bates was indeed a dark man. The Boer War, the drinking, his leg, his late wife…perhaps his own nature had dragged him into a sea of darkness and bitterness. Anna might have salvaged that, instead alas Bates had used that love to justify the very darkest of impulses. He'd taken the very thing that might have saved him and used it as a club which would forever separate them._

" _You will make her understand my wishes."_

 _Matthew tapped his cigarette against the table, "She is determined."_

 _Bates eyed him stating firmly; "Then you must be more determined."_

 _Matthew thought of Anna's insistence. He wondered if he could combat such feelings. "I can try."_

" _You must do it," Bates insisted his hand curling into a fist. "You will do it."_

" _I don't know," Matthew said looking away, slightly undone by the heat of Bates gaze. "I can try."_

" _You will do it." Bates stated observing coldly._ _"You likely have only a few less murders than I under your belt." Bates observed tensely. "I'm very much certain you can handle one kindly housemaid."_

The rumbling of the train caused Matthew to jerk awake. He shook his head trying to dislodge the conversation from his memory and placed a hand against his forehead.

"Bad dream?" Mary coached the question neutrally as if inquiring about the weather or a cricket match. Still he knew her better. Neutrality was a kind of cloak Mary donned in her role as the wife of a former shell shocked soldier. She feigned a casual concern when he knew her fears to be anything but….. Mary had waged a war with his psyche… For so long she had been as much his nurse as his wife. She had, he thought won, but only just. Disguised or not, the tendency to hover, to worry was a habit she was having a hard time shedding.

"Not quite a dream." He replied leaning back against the seat. Thankfully they had the compartment to themselves so there was no audience for his latest near attack.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," He said reaching for her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I do not. And you don't need to worry," He said leaning over and kissing her nose.

"Worry?" Mary repeated as if the thought had never entered her head. "Why ever would you think that?" Lies were a kind of currency between them.

Deciding to off play the seriousness Matthew felt his lips twitching upwards noting, "You keep watching me." He chuckled adding, "I hardly know what you expect."

Mary studied him for a moment before seemingly deciding to play along saying, "Perhaps I only like the look of you."

Matthew grinned answering, "This hat does make me look surprisingly dashing." Seeing Mary silently elevate one eyebrow Matthew shrugged admitting, "I read it in a detective novel; it sounded adventurous."

"Adventurous?" Mary observed smirking, "You organize your sock drawer by the color of your socks." Settling her head on his shoulder she continued; "My darling you are the least adventurous soul I've ever met." Glancing down at their interlaced fingers she said, "But I do like you that way. And you do make me laugh." Matthew thought this an odd remark particularly when in the past years he had so rarely caused her anything but pain and toil. Mary surprised him by adding, "I'm going to rely on you this weekend."

"Me?" He asked flatly. "We are going to be back on your hallowed ground."

Mary frowned reminding him, "Anna hasn't replied to any of my letters."

Matthew sighed reaching for an answer that might comfort her. "I am certain she will in time."

Glancing over at Mary he waited for her to reply and cite impatience or frustration instead she kept silent. Instead she maintained a determined silence. Deciding to mimic her stance he sat staring forward, resisting the urge to turn and check his wife's reactions. He need not have worried for in roughly a minute Mary blurted out, "You know I have no taste for waiting."

"Oh I know that," He granted chuckling. His expression turned more serious and he studied her carefully for a moment before confessing, "It only worries me…"

"What?" The question came to quickly reflecting too sudden a concern. The worries of a wife who knew worries could lead her husband into dangerous ground.

"I just don't want you to get hurt."

"And why would I get hurt?"

Matthew regarded her for only a moment before stating, "I imagine you know."

Sighing Mary admitted, "I suppose I do." And then she turned watching the landscape growing more familiar as they rolled ever closer to Downton.

 **.~.~.~.~.**

Mr. Carson had been flitting around all morning like a nervous bridegroom. He was forever uttering, "We must…. Lady Mary expects…. " All the directions and bluster barely disguising his excitement.

Sipping her tea Daisy turned saying conspiratorially to Mrs. Hughes, "I think he's more excited than his Lordship and the rest of the family."

"A butler has his favorites." She said repeating the old maxim he always fell back upon when questioned about his obvious favoritism toward the Earl's eldest. Seeing a figure in black cross the room and move toward the stairs Hughes frowned asking; "Has Anna said anything to you about this visit?"

Daisy shook her head, "No she keeps to herself mostly."

"Yes," Hughes agreed lifting her cup to her lips. After taking a long sip she said, "It is a very hard road she is traveling. It's probably best if we give her some space."

"Do you think she's angry at her ladyship and Mr. Crawley?" Daisy did not have a great deal of experience with the world but when William had died she had leaned heavily on Mrs. Patmore and Anna. Isolation she thought would have worsened matters. Yet Anna's grief seemed entirely different pressing her ever further into solitude and the shadows of the household.

"Whatever for?"

"Well the trial and such….and they kicked her right back here days afterward."

Hughes sighed correcting the girl, "Lady Mary and Mr. Crawley wanted Anna to remain on in London. They were willing to make her a permanent part of their household."

"She wanted to come back." Daisy said as if all at once the entire picture of that era came suddenly into focus, the blurry suddenly clear.

"I would imagine given the circumstances that would be easier. But now they are coming here." Mrs. Hughes sighed, but made no further comment as both women returned to watching Carson's almost manic movements even as their thoughts remained on the solitary figure now climbing the stairs.

 **.~.~.~.~.**

The driver, Trenton, was a new face to Matthew and Mary. He had come to the household after the war and his voice betrayed the gassing he had received at Loos. As he loaded their luggage Mary turned to Matthew observing, "Mama always disliked talkative drivers."

Matthew forced a cough to cover his chuckle as he opened the door for his wife.

Once the driver had started the car Mary turned toward Matthew saying, "I must speak to Anna, Matthew." She confided a fact he had guessed from the moment she suggested the trip. "She left so suddenly and has not sent a word since. "

"It's only been a few months." He said staring at the road ahead. "I'm certain she is still adjusting."

"I would like to be there to assist her." Mary tugged on her necklace as she spoke seemingly distracting herself.

"You offered to do that." Matthew pointed out reaching over and toying with the lower half of her necklace. "I think you might need to respect her answer."

"Her first answer was the result of the time and situation…." Her voice faltered before returning, "Anna has been my harbor through so many storms. I must try again and again if necessary."

Matthew lifted Mary's hand to his lips. Kissing it he observed, "I am beginning to believe you are a patron saint for lost causes."

 **.~.~.~.~.**

"Has his Lordship gone outside?" Anna asked entering the room where Ivy was supposed to be straightening the bed only to find her gaping out the window.

"The whole lot of them." She said smiling, "I'll never understand why everyone has to stand waiting. Like they are the King and Queen."

"They are in a sense." Anna said matter of factly. Ivy had not been raised in service and the peculiarities of the institution troubled her, whereas the other servants relied on those tenants.

Ivy frowned asking, "Shouldn't you be lined up."

Anna shook her head frowning and turning from the window saying, "No her ladyship was good enough to excuse me that."

"I thought you and Lady Mary were…I thought she was fond of you."

"She was, is I suppose…but…" Anna paused uncertain how to explain the state of affairs finally muttering, "Everything is different now…afterwards." Without further comment she turned from the window hurrying from the room.

 **.~.~.~.~.**

As soon as Trenton opened the door Robert strode forward calling exuberantly, "How very, very good to see you both." His smile was almost infectious as he extended his hand toward Matthew, "Welcome my children."

Matthew shook his hand, then quickly wrapped his arm around Mary's waist saying, "We're both very glad to be here."

"Very." Mary agreed smiling.

Cora stepped forward her expression one of pleasure if not quite comparable to the elation her husband exhibited. "We are both so very glad to see you." Turning to face Mary she explained, "I've arranged for you to have the blue suite it's on the east wing which should provide you both privacy and some lovely morning sunlight."

"Thank you Mamma," Mary said gratefully. She had often admired the blue suite, and it pleased if rather surprised her that her mother remembered that detail.

"Edith and her husband will be over later," Robert said and one could not help noting the way his excitement dimmed pronouncing the words her husband. "I only wish you might have come yesterday. Tony Gillingham and his lovely bride and a few neighbors dropped in and we had a nice croquet match."

"I'm afraid that is the peril of marrying a working man," Mary stated smiling affectionately at her husband. Matthew had only returned to work some months before and despite her fears he seemed the better for it.

Robert nodded saying, "Of course I'm afraid I tend to forget it." He quickly added, "Though perhaps its better for you. To be honest Tony seemed a bit bored."

"It's probably his wife," Mary noted sourly. "We met them in London." She frowned saying dismissively, "She was not my taste."

"She's very nice," Matthew said adding, "He's," He merely lifted his eyebrows.

Robert smiled saying, "You two are bickering like the old days."

"Not quite," Matthew admitted.

"But very close," Mary said squeezing her husband's arm.

Cora regarded them with an unreadable expression suggesting, "Why don't we all go inside.

As they stepped through the foyer Carson greeted them excitedly, "Welcome home Lady Mary and Mr. Crawley."

Mary smiled replying, "How very good to see you again Carson."

"And you to my lady." He said a trace shyly. "I see London has treated you well."

"Very," She agreed turning to share a look with her husband.

"Carson we'll have an early dinner tonight," Cora said affirming the plan. "I know my son-in-law prefers that."

"It's no trouble," Matthew quickly offered feeling the old unease rearing up inside him. "I can wait. I wouldn't want to trouble…"

"No, no," Cora said shaking her head decidedly. "It's fine. But I'm sure you'd both like some time to rest before dinner."

Robert who had watched the exchange uneasily suggested, "Let you wash the train off…." He smiled reassuringly and patted Matthew's free shoulder.

"That would be lovely." Mary agreed before asking Mrs. Hughes. "Will you send Anna to me?"

"Well my lady," Mrs. Hughes began saying quietly.

"Baxter will be assisting you." Cora interjected coolly.

Mary frowned insisting, "But Anna always…"

Cora matched her daughter's frown saying softly. "I thought it better for Baxter to do so, this time at least."

Mary looked about to say something, but instead she merely nodded and turned toward the stairs. Matthew nodded to Cora and Robert before turning to follow his wife.

 **.~.~.~.~.**

Anna found herself drifting down the hall toward the blue room without conscious thought. Glancing into the room she saw Baxter hurriedly unpacking Lady Mary's clothing. Seeing her, Baxter offered her a wry smile saying, "It always amazes me how much they pack for a visit."

Anna smiled moving across the room, and fingering a red dress lying across the bed. "She does have the loveliest clothes."

"Yes," Baxter said before asking guardedly, "Is she difficult?"

Anna shook her head demurring, "She likes things proper if you do as you generally do she won't give you a smidgen of trouble."

Baxter's relief played across her face as she said, "Good."

"Trouble," Anna said funny how certain words now seemed to trigger a churning deep inside of her.

"Anna," Baxter said giving her a reassuring smile. "I can make do…"

Anna nodded gratefully and turned to leave the room. As she did so the door swung open and a familiar figure entered.

"Anna." Mary exclaimed pleasantly as she almost collided with the servant. "I was hoping you would…."

Anna dipped her head saying, "If you will excuse me my lady I have to get back to my duties."

"Anna," Mary pleaded reaching out toward her. In response Anna literally scurried from the room.

Matthew reached out putting his hand on his wife's shoulder. Glancing toward the servant he said, "Lady Mary and I will need a moment."

Baxter nodded requesting, "Ring when you are ready for my assistance."

The door barely closed behind her before Matthew drew Mary into his arms.

 **.~.~.~.~.**

Carson shook his head seemingly confounded by the words he was hearing. "A servant has decided that she does not want to assist Lady Mary."

Hughes rolled her eyes. As Carson aged he became more and more like an old clucking rooster; too tired to rule the henhouse; but to pompous to surrender the job either. "Do you believe Anna would do that?"

His consternation seemed to fall from his face. "Oh… of course not." He then looked up meeting her eyes asking, "I thought she was fond of Lady Mary. They always seemed so close."

"I believe she is fond of her," Hughes said taking a seat in the chair opposite Carson's desk. "But right now she is in too much pain to feel much or do much… Surely you've seen it."

Carson sighed admitting, "I have I hoped it would lessen with time."

"It will," Hughes declared knowingly. "But for now I think having her serve Lady Mary would be akin of inflaming an old wound."

"Was it your idea then?"

"No it was her ladyship's," Hughes admitted interjecting, "Though I think it a sound one."

Carson reached for a pen. In moments of stress he became surprisingly tactile needing a pen, a rag, a newspaper something to move about in his hand. "I must confess Mrs. Hughes these modern times do confuse me."

Hughes offered him an affectionate smile. She would never love Carson not the way some thought. But she was fiercely fond of the man. For all his foolishness he was a caring man. "I believe we must give her time."

"Of course," He agreed nodding.

Mrs. Hughes rose saying, "For all your huffing you really are a very nice man."

He smiled almost in spite of himself, "Do not let the younger staff know."

"Our secret," She vowed walking out of the house and down toward the kitchen.

 **.~.~.~.~.**

Matthew adjusted his bow tie as he crossed into the larger bedroom.

Mary smiled at her husband in the reflection of the mirror, "You do look very smart."

"Your Granny would mistake me for a waiter."

Mary smiled in agreement, "She would ask you for a drink." She stopped feeling the bitter sweetness that the memories of Violet and the realization that she was gone always seemed to provoke.

Matthew walked over and laid his hand upon her shoulder. "I know you miss her."

Mary leaned slightly resting her cheek along his arm. "We all will." She glanced out the window sharing, "Papa suggested the Dower House be made over for us. I said no. That's her house."

"I feel the same way about Crawley House," Matthew said softly. "It's still her house."

Mary looked up at him promising, "Isobel would be very proud of her son."

"I wish she was here to say that." He said softly.

"Matthew," She said stroking her hand along his arm.

"The whole trip up I had to keep reminding myself she wouldn't be here." He admitted in a tone so low she had to strain to hear his words. "She's been gone for me for years but coming back I had to remind myself…" He shook his head, "Every time I believe I'm really well."

"You are really well," She assured him continuing to stroke his arm. "I feel the same way about Granny. It's normal."

"If you say so," He said sounding dubious of her words.

A soft knock caused both to spring apart as Baxter entered with her head cast down, "I apologize, my lady but I thought you might like some assistance with your hair."

Mary smiled gratefully answering, "I would."

Matthew rose to his feet stating, "And that's my cue to exit. I think once I grab my dinner jacket, I'll go down and have a drink with your father."

Baxter frowned in obviously perplexed causing Matthew to exclaim, "Oh dear don't tell me Carson is still averse to pre-dinner cocktails."

Baxter smiled apologetically, "I'm afraid so, Sir."

"Well," Matthew said playfully raising his eyebrows stating sarcastically; "At least someone is upholding the old ways. Especially the incredibly useless ones," He said amusedly.

Mary rolled her eyes stating, "I'll be down soon to help you wage the good fight darling."

"Don't hurry we'll only talk of cricket and politics."

Mary chuckled replying, "Oh I shall enjoy that. You require my assistance to even understand the sport, and if you tell Papa too much of your current political opinion we'll likely need to summon Clarkson."

Matthew grinned rakishly offering, "Well never say I don't wake a party up." With that he crossed into the adjoining dressing room.

"That was funny." Mary decided as she watched Baxter approaching.

 **.~.~.~.~.**

There had been no fight at all for when Matthew strolled into the library a quarter of an hour later Robert had risen to his feet suggesting, "Shall I pour us a bit of courage?"

"Indeed," Matthew replied smiling agreeably.

"I'm afraid I don't know…" Robert said confusedly. "What is your choice?"

"Whatever you are drinking," Matthew quickly interjected.

"A Scotch then."

Matthew nodded as if finding the suggestion amenable. Robert had no idea that he could have suggested water or vodka and Matthew would have agreed just as readily. For Matthew still found decision making a cumbersome process. Even simple choices, such as what wine to order to accompany a meal could render him very nearly dimwitted. He retained a soldier's skill for political decision making, and in the courtroom or before a contract the cobwebs of confusion cleared. Yet, simple matters confounded him so that he tended to restrict the process. On smaller questions such as food or drink, he tended to defer to the selection of his host. The results were inconsistent, much Matthew decided like life itself. Sometimes you got a surprising treat and other times an unappetizing meat. Scotch though suited him and he took a sip of the glass Robert handed him, before following him and taking a seat in the chair opposite him.

Robert glanced around the room before asking, "I suppose it isn't proper etiquette to admit, but I am curious about this visit."

"Does Cora know?"

Robert shook his head stating, "Goodness no. As far as she knows it was merely a father's indulgent desire to see his eldest child."

Matthew ran his finger along the rim of the glass speaking almost to himself, "Good, good."

Robert studied him for a moment before pressing his point, "Why the visit?"

Matthew sat back in the chair, "As I told you it's well past time I paid a few visits." He took a sip of the Scotch letting it roll down his throat. "Repay some old war debts."

"I see," Robert said taking a sip of his Scotch. "Is that the only reason?" There was an atypical firmness to the question.

"Mary wanted to come as well," Matthew admitted rocking his glass between his hands. "She's deeply concerned about Anna."

"I'm certain she is." Robert granted staring into the brown liquid. "But surely she knows Anna will need time to grieve."

"I don't think it's that." Matthew said after giving the matter some thought. "I think it's that she wants to support Anna, she feels her friendship merits that support."

Robert took a sip of his drink, "Admirable, but I'm not certain Anna will see it that way."

"Likely not," Matthew conceded in agreement. "But I do respect her effort."

Robert smiled wanly, "I suppose I do as well…. I just wish the situation was easier."

"How is she…. "Matthew seemed to search for the correct word finally settling on, "Adjusting."

Robert sighed taking a sip of his whiskey. "Carson says she is recovering. I'm not certain he's factual as much as hopeful." He was silent a moment clearly giving the matter some thought. "She was always a pleasant quiet servant yet one feels…" He shook his head. "It's a beastly thing; I cannot make sense of a bit of it."

"You saw the trial for yourself."

"Still the allegations, the crime it's all so difficult to make sense of…." He took a sip of his Scotch before shrugging, "I suppose though we all do strange things for love."

Matthew forced himself to look up into Robert's eyes asking, "Do you think it was love?"

Robert seemed taken aback by the question sputtering, "Well of course, and of course we all know the truth about Bates. The kind of man he was."

Matthew felt his attention fading out. The man was clearly delusional on the subject of Bates. Perhaps he shared the same affliction as Anna. Still he forced himself to reply agreeing though perhaps not in the way his father-in-law imagined; "Yes we do know exactly what sort of man he was."

 **.~.~.~.~.**

Mary knocked three times at the door calling, "Mama its me."

"Come in," Cora's voice beckoned causing Mary to turn the knob and step in. Glancing at her daughter's reflection Cora smiled praising, "Don't you look beautiful."

Mary glanced down at her gown offering distractedly, "Thank you."

Cora turned her attention back to her reflection. "I doubt you dropped in to discuss your appearance or the wine selection."

"Hardly," Mary agreed.

"Oh dear," Cora said frowning at Mary in the mirror's reflection. "We aren't going to quarrel before dinner are we?"

"Mama you know I expected Anna to assist me."

"I do," Cora agreed reaching for a brush, "But Baxter clearly did a fine job."

Mary sighed finding her mother's obtuseness frustrating, "That's not the point."

"Of course not," Cora agreed tiredly. "Mary," She said turning around to face her daughter. "Did it occur to you that perhaps Anna asked not to assist you."

"I know she did not."

"You are correct she didn't," Cora agreed placidly. "But I knew it was her wish."

"You barely know her name." Mary retorted rolling her eyes.

"That's hardly fair."

Mary looked down conceding, "You're right, but why Mama? You know how much Anna means to me."

Cora sighed reaching for her brush. "I know and that does complicate decision making." She ran her fingers over the bristles of the brush. "Anna is still in enormous pain."

"She told you that." Mary questioned in surprise.

Cora shook her head explaining, "She did not have to. Her face, her demeanor, even her energy is very, very different."

"Well that's hardly surprising." Mary said arguing, "I can help her. At least be a support."

"Can you?" Cora asked sounding uncertain. "Was she willing to accept your help in London?" Before Mary could reply she asked, "I understood you wanted her to stay on at Grantham House."

"Yes," Mary admitted weakly. "But the pain was so fresh."

"It's only been a few months," Cora reminded her firmly.

"I know that, I only thought."

"You thought you'd come home on the pretext of a visit and what embrace Anna and help her deal with all that's happened?" When Mary did not answer Cora went on saying, "You didn't come to visit us…."

"Papa invited…." It was a weak effort barely spoken and instantly regretted.

"Oh you didn't think I'd fall for your father's foolish declaration about wanting a visit." Cora said thinly. "He's perfectly capable of picking up a telephone or taking a train when he wants to see you. No I knew all along this was about your feelings for Anna."

"I want to support her, help her…." Even to her own ears Mary found her justifications weakening.

"Do you really think you are the right person to do?"

"You blame me for her unhappiness. I attended the trial, I made no sentence."

"For goodness sake surely you do not think I'd put a servant ahead of my daughter. Give me some maternal credit."

"Matthew then?" Mary questioned in a prickly tone.

Cora shook her head, "I blame no one. But nor do I believe that Anna should have to endure either of you at present."

"I can help her Mama," Mary insisted falteringly.

"I have complete confidence that Carson, Mrs. Hughes, and Mrs. Patmore, and the servants will see to her emotional needs. Now," Cora stated turning her back to her daughter, "I really must prepare for dinner."

Mary knew her mother well enough to know the discussion was closed. Sighing, with no little amount, with resignation she opened the door.

"Mary," Cora called as her stander stood in the doorframe, "I hope I can rely on you to remain pleasant. There's no reason for this to mar dinner tonight."

"Yes Mama," Mary acquiesced weakly exiting the room closing the door behind her.

 **.~.~.~.~.**

Matthew was staring into his Scotch with meditative interest when a familiar figure entered the room smiling. Rising Matthew grinned calling, "Edith!"

She crossed the room extending her hands. "I am sorry we were not here to greet you. Anthony and I went to a tractor exhibition in Ripon and he could not tear himself away."

"Anthony," Matthew said extending his hand toward Edith's husband.

"It's good to see you again Matthew," He said offering his good arm forcing Matthew to shift hands. "I apologize about earlier. I suppose," He said admitting bit abashedly, "I became a bit excited at the exhibition."

"He always does," Edith said patting her husband's sling.

Robert rolled his eyes tartly observing, "I would think you could see such things anytime."

"Oh no," Anthony said strolling over toward him. "The exhibition had the latest styles. I'd love to tell you about the new engines."

Stepping closer to Matthew Edith observed, "I'm never sure if he realizes Papa doesn't care or tells such stories precisely because he knows papa doesn't care." She smiled confiding, "I prefer the former."

Matthew grinned in shared amusement. The fact Edith had chosen to have a small wedding at Grantham House in London had told him all he needed to know about Robert's enthusiasm for the wedding and especially for the bridegroom. Still, he'd been proud of the wedding Mary had hurriedly organized, and Edith did seem happy with Strallen. "Edith," He began his mind turning to another matter. "I know Anthony owns several automobiles."

"Yes," She smiled adding, "I thought the injury might curb his desire for automobiles. But he seems perfectly at ease with me serving as driver."

"Could I borrow one tomorrow." He requested adding, "I need to repay an old war debt."

"Certainly," She agreed asking, "Would you like Anthony or I or one of our staff to drive you somewhere?"

Matthew shook his head vowing, "This is a trip I have to take alone."

 **.~.~.~.~.**


End file.
